Acton Town, Church.
"Please, both the bride and groom, place your palms together, gaze into each other's eyes, and answer the following questions honestly before God."
A wedding was underway, but the guests were sparse and scattered, their expressions grim, more like they were preparing for battle than celebrating a union.
Astrid, the bride's daughter, looked particularly conflicted.
Lydia hadn't wanted Astrid at this fake wedding, but Roy insisted her absence would seem suspicious. Even a lunatic like the Dark Archmage might notice something was off.
So, Astrid was present at the ceremony.
The most unusual detail was the officiant—a nun. Typically, Western weddings are led by a priest, but Roy worried a random priest might cause issues, and an FEA agent posing as one could be risky. So, he enlisted Isabella's help.
Isabella, Michael's human vessel, had retired to Cascade Town after Michael returned to Heaven. When Roy asked for her assistance, she didn't refuse. Having been possessed by Michael for so long, she had plenty of combat experience and wouldn't make mistakes.
Roy held Lydia's hand, his expression calm, but Lydia was visibly nervous. With nearly a twenty-year age gap and Roy's striking looks, she felt self-conscious staring into his eyes.
"Lydia, control your emotions! You don't look like a bride right now!" Roy whispered.
"But I…" Lydia stammered, struggling to play the part. They'd only known each other a few days, barely friends, let alone lovers. At most, Lydia was just smitten with Roy's face.
For a young girl, marrying a handsome guy like Roy would be a dream come true. But Lydia, at forty, was a mature, rational woman, finding it hard to get into character.
"Think of it as a reality show," Roy suggested. "You're playing the role of a woman in a May-December romance."
That clicked for Lydia. She hosted a late-night reality show on ABC and had some acting experience. Reality shows often had loose scripts with a general direction to save time during filming, unlike arthouse films that lingered on every shot. Some "scripted reality" shows even crafted detailed personas and dialogue, but in America, those were less common—people preferred authentic reactions, and fakes were too easy to spot.
Taking a deep breath, Lydia closed her eyes, imagining a camera filming from afar, and slipped into her role.
Isabella continued, "Groom, Roy Black, do you take Lydia Watson as your wife, to love, respect, and protect her, in good times and bad, in sickness and health, in wealth and poverty, until death do you part?"
Roy answered firmly, "I do."
Isabella turned to Lydia. "Bride, Lydia Watson, do you take Roy Black as your husband, to trust, support, and stand by him, through youth and age, until the end of the world?"
Lydia nodded solemnly. "I do!"
"Now, the couple may exchange rings and share a kiss."
Roy and Lydia each pulled out their prepared rings and moved to embrace. Roy hesitated briefly but, determined to lure out the Dark Archmage, leaned in for the kiss.
Just then, the church doors burst open. A green-haired figure in a black suit, holding a bouquet of roses, appeared at the entrance.
"I object!"
The scene felt straight out of a melodramatic soap opera, complete with an Unforgivable BGM. The only issue? The Dark Archmage was far too ugly to pass as a soap opera heartthrob, exuding an indescribable creepiness.
Still, he was fully in character, shouting with raw emotion. "Lydia! The man you should marry is me! This guy's just a hopeless playboy! He has more girlfriends than I have fingers and toes!"
That was a bit exaggerated, but not entirely wrong. Roy's long-term partners had indeed surpassed twenty, though he could handle them all.
So, Roy pulled Lydia close and gave her a passionate kiss, egging the Archmage on. "Sorry, she's into me."
Lydia melted into the kiss, her shy expression seeming to confirm Roy's words.
The Archmage's hair seemed to turn an even greener shade of envy. He stared at Lydia, his face a picture of melodramatic heartbreak, like the tragic second lead in a K-drama. "Lydia, tell me this isn't true!"
"It's true," Lydia replied without hesitation. Even thinking with her knees, she'd pick Roy over the Archmage.
"No!" The Archmage collapsed to his knees, looking utterly defeated, as if One More Time by Fei Xue were playing in the background.
He was so into the drama it was almost embarrassing.
Then, a magic circle appeared beneath him, golden chains binding him tightly. His eyes widened, clearly unprepared for this.
Roy had used this binding spell before, but this was the full version, strong enough to restrain even high-ranking demons.
Dorothy stood, glaring at the Archmage with venomous hatred. "Dark Archmage, do you remember me?"
He looked at her, puzzled, as if she were a stranger. "Who are you?"
That only fueled Dorothy's rage, her already impressive chest seeming to swell even more. "You bastard! I'll kill you!"
Roy sensed trouble. "Dorothy, don't be reckless!"
Too late. Dorothy, consumed by anger, unleashed a spell. A gray spiral of energy, brimming with deathly aura, shot silently toward the Archmage.
But it backfired, breaking the binding circle instead. The Archmage's luck was just too good.
He quickly drew a circle on the ground, preparing to escape.
Roy's eyes narrowed. If the Archmage got away, catching him again would be near impossible. "Lilith!"
"On it!" Lilith activated the Binding of Veltra, a spell Roy had used against the Slenderman to block spatial magic. Anyone teleporting within it would have their body torn apart.
The Archmage's escape failed, his body splitting in half. But as a ghost, not a living being, the damage was minimal, and he quickly reformed.
"Dorothy, stick to the plan! No more improvising!" Roy urged.
Biting her lip, Dorothy suppressed her fury and flung a glowing green chain, trapping the Archmage. As a seasoned witch, he recognized the Soul Chain spell.
"Hey, what's that for?" he protested.
Dorothy released the protective spell Elizabeth had placed on her, letting her bad luck return. The Archmage, trying to flee, tripped and fell, overwhelmed by a sudden burst of misfortune. Any move now was suicide.
Unaware of Dorothy's cursed luck, he fell right into the trap.
Lilith cast again, using her unparalleled illusion magic, enhanced by her contract with Elizabeth, to control the Archmage. His already unstable mind, with its low willpower, couldn't resist.
Together, Roy and Lilith sealed him in a glass orb. By the time he broke free of the illusion, it was too late.
Dorothy glared at the orb, her face alight with the thrill of vengeance. "Look at you now!"
The trapped Archmage couldn't speak, only watch as Dorothy picked up the orb.
"Dorothy, don't play around! Finish him off!" Roy warned.
She nodded, transferring her bad luck to the Archmage and undoing the Soul Chain. One final step remained: eliminating him.
Placing the orb on the ground, Dorothy cast her signature spell, Death Spiral—a silent, instant-death magic that could kill even ghosts. The Archmage was obliterated, leaving nothing behind.
With her revenge complete, Dorothy's expression turned hollow. Like many who achieve vengeance, the moment of triumph left her empty. For centuries, enduring the pain of her seal, her sole purpose had been to destroy the Archmage. Now, she was adrift.
"Roy, wanna grab a drink?" she asked, her eyes flickering.
"Now?" There was still cleanup to do, and Roy bailing didn't feel right.
Lilith caught his hesitation and nudged him. "Roy, I'll handle the cleanup. Go have that drink with Dorothy."
Her tone made it clear Dorothy's request wasn't really about drinking. Roy nodded.
Lydia, free from her long nightmare, was celebrating with Astrid in a tight embrace. But seeing Roy leave with Dorothy, she sighed. That kiss had nearly swept her away, but Roy's closeness with Lilith and Dorothy brought her back to reality.
"Just a dream," she murmured.
"What'd you say, Mom?" Astrid asked.
"Nothing! Astrid, how about coming with me to Los Angeles?"
Astrid's eyes lit up. "Can I?"
"Of course. I've realized my mistakes. We're never splitting up again."
Drinking wasn't Dorothy's real goal—it was an excuse to make a decision. After a few glasses, she naturally fell into Roy's arms.
As a walking corpse, Dorothy had a body and soul but wasn't stiff. Her skin was still taut and elastic, almost miraculous.
"Dorothy, you drunk?" Roy asked.
"Yes, so you can do whatever you want with me," she said, her gaze hazy.
As a corpse, she shouldn't get drunk, so this was her giving Roy an opening.
Roy wasn't clueless about romance. With Dorothy's invitation clear, he wasn't about to back down.
Off came the armor! Off came the armor! Off came the armor!
The stitches on Dorothy's body added an eerie beauty, something only a knockout like her could pull off.
Speaking of knockouts, Monica Bellucci was countless men's dream girl in Roy's past life, sparked by Malèna. Seeing the real deal now, Roy's impulses were unstoppable.
"Ah!" Dorothy gasped.
As a walking corpse, her senses were dulled, possibly even less than a vampire's. Still, Roy's overwhelming stats shocked her—a lung-piercing intensity.
"What are these stats?" she asked.
"Like it?"
Dorothy closed her eyes. Even with her muted senses, the experience was faint, which frustrated her.
Then Roy tapped into his Desire Incarnate state, channeling a certain energy into her. Her eyes snapped open. "What's that?"
"Dorothy, just feel it."
Blood surged, the chariot roared, and the warrior was unstoppable!
Acton's only bar echoed with world-class soprano notes, like a concert in full swing. Good thing the town was empty and the church far off, or everyone would've heard.
Lilith, though, seemed to catch the melody and smiled brightly.
[Ding! Dorothy's Conquest Chest unlocked! Open now?]
Let's go with a pic of Dorothy and her daughter.